


From Russia With Love

by ariapassionflower01



Series: Bill Knows Best [3]
Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: M/M, Porn with some plot, Punishments, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Spanking, Twincest, bottom!Tom, controlfreak!Bill, loving relationship, sub/dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariapassionflower01/pseuds/ariapassionflower01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill wants Tom to be ready for him, but Tom doesn't want to wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Russia With Love

The room seemed small. Far too small for Tom Kaulitz's frayed nerves. Georg was sitting too close to him. The interviewer was leaning in too far. Her smile and energetic questions were scratching across his nerve endings like a violinist who couldn't finesse the bow quite right.  
He sat slouched in his chair, uncomfortable at best, with his foot propped up on the coffee table that sat in front of the group. He knew his posture was denoting that he didn't care very much about this interview, but he could not bring himself to sit up straight and answer questions normally like the rest.  
Staring at the faux wood surface of the coffee table, he could hear Bill's voice, going on in its smooth, lilting tone. Sweat was breaking out on his forehead and he tried not to breath too fast. Surely someone could read his body language and know...  
He glanced over just at the moment that Bill was sliding his eyes towards him. His makeup was black and silver, accenting the almond shape of his eyes – those eyes that burned into him so steadily. He didn't say a word but Tom could hear the message clearly transmitted towards him. Bill's eyes were firm and controlling, but at the same time Tom could feel the sympathy and compassion radiating from them. Tom shuddered, and looked away. Keep it together, Kaulitz. He told himself, fiercely. He could make it through this interview. He had made it through the red carpet, and the press conference – he could make it through this.  
He shifted once more and ducked his head to hide the grimace that washed over his features. He closed his eyes and drew in a breath, his entire body clenching until it passed. He didn't realize that it was his turn to speak until Georg was slapping his arm. He glanced over, saw Bill narrow his eyes, and rearranged his face, doing his best to pull off normalacy.  
The interviewer was smiling at him. She was pretty like many of the girls in Russia. Dark hair, big, black eyes. A nice set of tits. It couldn't interest Tom at the moment however. He could barely think about their upcoming performance, let alone this insignificant interview.  
The band hadn't performed in awhile and they were making a big to-do of their Russian performance for Muz-TV. They had spent most of their time in Russia talking to press and greeting fans, however, there was a few moments in between where Bill had taken the chance to crowd Tom up in their suite. His eyes had been so black with desire and Tom's heart had rushed. He had been sure that he was about to get bent over and fucked hard. He had protested, insisting that they were going to be late for the red carpet and thus the press conference. Shaking his head, Bill had said, “No, we're not going to... Not yet.” And his eyes had narrowed in that way that made Tom's stomach shiver uncontrollably. “Later... much later – after you're ready for me.”  
“Ready?” Tom had asked, shuddering with every word that Bill had spoken.  
And then Bill had pulled it out. A new toy – one that made Tom's stomach plummet. He had known at the very moment that he was going to be in discomfort for the rest of the day. He had tried to protest once more, firmly at first, before turning in a disconsolate mess of begging and pleading. Bill had ignored it all, gently turning Tom about and taking his pants down to insert the two-inch size butt plug. It was rather small compared to some of the others that Bill had in his possession but it was just big enough to give Tom a problem – a big problem.  
That had been almost four hours ago and now Tom was almost ready to lose his cool. He didn't know how much more he could take and Bill knew full well that he was pushing him to his limits. He hadn't exactly stated when he would take it out, and Tom was praying to any god that would hear him that it would be soon. Just as soon as they were in private, Tom was going to do his best to get Bill to remove the torture instrument.  
He suffered through the rest of the interview, spurred on only by Bill's occasional glances, whether they were encouraging or reprimanding.  
When they were finally allowed out the little room, Bill slid up beside him, their fingers barely brushing. Tom wanted to latch on to the cool, fine-boned fingers, but he couldn't while they were in public. They made it through another barrage of crazed fans and made it into the cars they had come in. They would go back to the suite now and prepare for tonight's performance. There was going to be a complete clothes and makeup change for Bill.  
Once he and Bill were in their car, Tom collapsed against Bill shoulder. Bill soothed him and stroked a hand over his cheek.  
“How are you doing?” He asked softly.  
Tom nearly choked, emotion suddenly roiling up in chest. His nerves were worn thin, his composure completely destroyed. “Take it out.” He whispered, his voice rough.  
Bill clicked his tongue softly, but didn't say a word in response.  
“Bill.” Tom insisted, yanking on Bill's sleeve. “Please...”  
Bill appeared stoic behind his $150 sunglasses, but Tom gazed up at him pleadingly anyhow. “I can't do the performance tonight if you don't.” Tom burst out, desperation truly setting in.  
Bill glanced down at him, his pierced brow rising above the frame of the sunglasses. The simple look made Tom shudder and almost take the words back, but he couldn't.  
“It three songs. Twenty minutes at the most.” Tom wheedled, like a kid trying to get his parent to let him take the car out for night.  
Bill nodded slowly, igniting a spark of hope in Tom's chest.  
“I swear to God,” Tom whispered, “I'll be so good. I'll do everything you ask.”  
He could see he was winning Bill over and stroked Bill's arm insistently, his fingers tracing over the “Freiheit 89” inked onto his inner forearm.  
Bill slid a hand down to Tom's thigh and squeezed softly, eliciting a moan from Tom's lips. “Are you hard?” He murmured, detouring sharply from their line of conversation. Tom gasped in a breath at the direct question. He swallowed hard, blinking quickly as he tried to make his tongue work.  
“Ja.” He managed at last, the tiny syllable straining past his lips.  
“Let me see.” Bill said, as if he were about to appraise a piece of art.  
“In here?” Tom whispered, feeling blood rush to his cheeks.  
Bill gave a short sigh and plucked his sunglasses from his nose. Turning dark eyes on Tom, he said, with an upraised brow, “You promised.”  
The rest of the statement was left unsaid. Tom had promised to be good and do everything Bill said. Bill was already putting that promise to the test and Tom had to follow through.  
Tom forced himself upright in the seat and began to open his pants with quivering hands. He pulled back the loose material and pulled his boxers down far enough to let his cock escape. The cool, air conditioning of the car met his heated, aching flesh and he gave a moan.  
Bill turned in the seat, the smallest of smiles lifting one side of his full lips. He reached out a hand and cirled Tom's cock with long fingers. Tom moaned, and pressed his lips together, trying not to thrust up wildly into Bill's hand.  
“You want it.” Bill stated quietly, his fingers sliding up Tom's cock, so light it was almost like a ghost.  
“God, yes.” Tom ground out, in a low, but breathless voice.  
Bill drew his thumb over Tom's tip, dipping beneath foreskin to find the leaking crevice. Tom's eyes rolled back and he almost collapsed back against the seat. He barely kept himself upright as Bill surveyed his handiwork.  
“That's a good start.” Bill said, drawing his hand back.  
“Wha...?” Tom began, his eyes flying open. A good start??? He had been on the verge of arousal for almost four hours, and now that he actually had a full-blown erection, Bill was telling him it was only a start?  
Bill brushed his hands together as if to dust away any pre-cum that might've gotten on his flesh.  
“But...” Tom protested, yanking his clothes back together.  
Bill looked over at him, feigned innocence in his dark eyes. “I said I only wanted to see.”  
“You are... unbelievable.” Tom spat at last, hot blood rushing to face, this time out of anger instead of arousal.  
Bill raised his brow sharply. “Lose the attitude, Tom.”  
“Fucking tease.” Tom muttered harshly under his breath as he sank back into his seat, arms folded.  
“Hey,” Bill snapped, grabbing Tom's chin and forcing his eyes back to him, “Do you want to go over my knee?”  
“No.” Tom said, trying to pull away from Bill's grip.  
“You're going to get there very quickly if you don't stop this.” Bill vowed, a hint of anger in mocha, brown eyes. He released Tom and Tom found his heart beating out a rapid, frantic pace, while his stomach swirled. He had no doubt that Bill would do just that, right here in the car, if he really wanted to.  
“You were doing so good.” Bill said quietly, a disappointed tone in his voice.  
Tom wanted to come up with another smart response. He wanted to yell at Bill that maybe he should try being tortured for four hours and maybe then he would understand. The words, however, did not leave his lips. He had probably already ruined his chances of getting out of butt plug early. He didn't need any more points against himself.  
They didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride, and the silence was stiff and heavy. When they reached the hotel Bill unfolded himself from the car quickly and marched towards the doors. He was peeved, and Tom cursed himself quietly. He followed, waddling more than walking. He blamed it on the size of his pants but he knew the truth, and it was stabbing him in ass with each step.  
Tom found Bill waiting at the elevator, his arms crossed. He glanced over at Tom and drew in a breath. His eyes softened a little before he pressed the button that made the door slide open. They stepped inside and when the door closed, Bill pulled him against him. Tom resisted at first but then leaned in against Bill's chest after a moment. He nuzzled his nose into his shoulder and drew in a calming scent.  
Bill's hand made soothing, circular motions over Tom's back, and he kissed Tom's forehead.  
“I'm sorry.” Tom croaked.  
Bill nodded slowly and said softly, “We have about an hour. We're going to go to my suite and I'm going to have to punish you.”  
“Bill...” Tom began in a plea, trying to push back from his chest to look up at him.  
Bill held a finger up to his lips to hush him. “I can't have that kind of behavior.”  
Tom groaned and lowered his head back to Bill's shoulder.  
“But after that, I will take it out for a bit, okay?” Bill said, softly, stroking his hair.  
Tom let out a breath of relief, sinking harder against Bill's chest. He would willing take a punishment if it meant Bill taking the plug out for a few minutes. He was lucky that Bill was even doing that. After the way Tom had acted, he had expected nothing of the like.  
A ding alerted them that they had reached their floor and Tom disentangled himself from Bill's embrace, although he didn't want to leave those soft, assuring arms. He followed after Bill to Bill's suite, his stomach doing nervous flips. No matter how many times Bill punished him, he would never get over how he felt right before.  
Bill pulled out his key and swiftly swiped it. The lock beeped green and Bill led them inside, holding loosely onto Tom's fingers. Tom gripped Bill's hand harder in return as he shut the door behind him. He felt as if he were locking himself in with his own Fate.  
They reached the bedroom and Bill directed him to the bed. Tom knew what to do and he silently took off his pants and boxers. Bill searched in his suitcase while Tom undressed and returned to the bed, the sleek, wooden paddle in hand. Tom slid onto the bed on his stomach, his legs feeling weak, his arms useless. Tight emotion seized his chest, and he pressed his eyes shut. Bill slid onto the bed beside him, one hand coming to rest on Tom's lower back.  
“You know I never want to do this.” He said, quietly, just as he did almost every other time, unless he was seriously pissed at Tom. Tom nodded in a quick, jerky motion against the bedspread and braced himself.  
The first strike always hurt the most and Tom bit down hard on his lip to keep back a cry. Pain flared down his nerve endings and he could feel his body clench about the plug in response. The spanking almost felt like it had lodged it deeper, but Tom consoled himself with Bill's promise to take it out afterwards.  
Bill spanked him again, turning his flesh red under the harsh punishment of the paddle. Tom pressed his hand against his mouth, muting another audible cry. It barely made its way past the barrier of his palm and he swallowed around a hiccup. He could feel tears pounding at the back of his eyes and he tried to hold them back, barely breathing, as Bill punished him again.  
You just had to get mad. He chastised himself inside. Why can't you just shutup for two seconds? Why can't you let Bill handle things?  
Tom jerked when Bill spanked him a fourth time. He felt a tear squeeze out of his left eye and he brushed it away quickly.  
The usual punishment for backtalk was five, good spankings with the paddle, and as Tom remembered, he had given a snarky response two times. That meant ten spankings and Tom was glad that he hadn't continued the argument. Drearily, he remembered a time when they had spent quite a good while in this position when Tom had gone as far as to throw an ill-fated punch in Bill's direction. He couldn't remember exactly how many spankings they had gone through, but Tom had been a mess of tears and pained nerve endings by the time it was over. Remembering this, Tom told himself that he could get through this; it wasn't so bad.  
Bill finished the first set of five and paused for a moment, as if to let Tom breathe.  
“Five more and we're done.” He assured Tom in a soothing voice.  
Tom nodded against the mattress, breathing in shaky inhales and exhales.  
Bill resumed the punishment in silence, cracking the paddle down against Tom's bare ass with quick swings of his lean, muscled arm.  
Tom counted each one in his head, counseling himself through the last of the punishment. At last, Bill laid the paddle down and moved between Tom's legs. Tom hid his face in his arms, wiping away stray tears as he tried to relax and let Bill remove the plug. His fingers probed softly, fitting inside him to grasp the end of the plug. He pulled it out in one swift tug. Tom gave a rough cry as it dislodged from his body. Bill patted his leg and slid from the bed. He put the plug in the bathroom and returned the bed where he gathered Tom in his arms, cradling him against his chest. They reclined back against the pillows and Bill stroked his tightly braided head.  
“It's okay.” He murmured quietly, rocking Tom in his arms like a baby. He began to hum quietly, his fingers stroking over Tom's neck and back soothingly. Tom relaxed against Bill's chest, exhausted, although he hadn't even come today. As far as he could see, they were still far from that conclusion today.  
“Do you have to put it back in?” Tom asked quietly after a few minutes.  
“Yes.” Bill replied in a same tone.  
Tom gave a sigh but didn't reply. He might as well enjoy what was left of the hour that they had.

~

Tom could hear the screaming a thousand people. It almost shook the foundation of building, and it was barely muted by the walls between Tokio Hotel and the fans.  
They were poised to go on stage and Tom had his guitar slung over his shoulder. He felt more calm than an hour before, but the insistent need grated at the back of his mind.  
When their hour had been up Bill had led him back to the bathroom, lubricated him, and slid the plug back in. With a chaste kiss to Tom's lips, Bill had gone off the makeup chair once more, where Natatlie had transformed him into his look for tonight. It was slightly different than earlier, more edgier and rough than this morning's sleek, high fashion. He wore his dark hair slicked back , the ends teasing the TH symbol emblazoned on his neck. The outfit consisted of a black, form-fitting tank top, and almost obscenely tight, leopard print leggings with a belt and suspenders that hung around his thighs. He wore a pair of black, leather, lace-up boots and a black jacket completed the outfit. He looked stunning, delicious, and far too sexy for Tom. The visual alone was bringing his former, raging desire back to the forefront. He was glad that he was standing now, instead of sitting, and that he had his guitar in front of him.  
They took their places on stage as they were announced and then the lights were going up and Tom made his fingers work over the guitar strings. It was a rather large stage and Bill had plenty of room race back and forth.  
They started off with “Darkside of the Sun” a song that Tom typically, really enjoyed playing. Today, his concentration was put off my the torture of the plug and of Bill's beautifully, rounded ass in those damned leggings. He forced himself to think about his guitar instead, but his hole was throbbing, and his ass still stung slightly from the spanking earlier.  
Bill came over to his side of the stage, singing exuberantly into the mic. Tom could hardly look him in the eye, and kept his head tilted down, finessing his pick over the strings.  
At the end of the song, Bill greeted the fans, but Tom could hardly listen to his speech. He was looking at the shape of Bill ass and legs in those leopard pants from underneath his eyelashes. He caught himself just in time to play the intro of “World Behind My Wall.”  
He closed his eyes and tried to listen to the calming tone of Bill's voice, letting his soothe him. However, by the time they reached “Automatic” he was quivering with need and this time, he knew it was close. They just had to get through this and the after party. Tom was thinking along the lines of simply making a brief appearance at the after party as the song came to an end and the trademark confetti shot up from the edges of the stage, peppering the crowd in little silver, glittery pieces.  
The high of performing thrilled through Tom's veins as they left the stage. Everything seemed to be in high definition, his body atuned and super-sensitive to everything around him.  
Tom felt as if he were shaking like a leaf by the time they got out of the venue.  
Jost and the producers had arranged for there to be a big bash at one of their favorite clubs and usually Tom enjoyed these kinds of parties. Tonight, however, he couldn't wait for it to be over.  
They settled in at a table with drinks and Tom pulled up close to Bill. When Bill's hand settled on his leg beneath the table, Tom drew in a sharp breath. He glanced over at Bill, finding his expression impassive.  
“Bill..” He whispered.  
“Hmm?” He asked, lifting his glass and taking a sip.  
“How long do you, you know.... plan on staying?” Tom asked, trying to sound casual.  
Bill turned his head to look at Tom, and Tom knew right away that he saw straight through him. Desire and need was written across Tom's face, as clearly as a cracked book. Bill rubbed his thumb over Tom's leg, scraping with a long, dark nail. He reached down and grabbed onto Bill's hand, whispering urgently, “Bill, please...”  
“Come here.” Bill murmured and drew Tom closer, resting Tom's head on his shoulder. Tom let out a breath and closed his eyes. He needed to relax. There was no rushing Bill. He shouldn't have attempted to force it earlier. “That's a good boy.” Bill whispered his praise that sent Tom's heart pounding. His cock was hard beneath his pants and Bill's hand was stroking up his thigh, so close...  
“That's, mmm... good.” Tom whispered as Bill's hand squeezed high up on his thigh.  
“It's gonna be better.” Bill returned in a low voice.  
Tom drew in a sharp breath, sure that Bill felt him shudder against him.  
“It's gonna be deep...” Bill went on, “and hard... so hard, Tomi.” He squeezed Tom's leg harder, right next to his cock. Tom let out an audible moan, turning his face fully into Bill's shoulder.  
Bill finished his drink and set the glass down on the table in a firm motion. “Let's get out of here.” He whispered to Tom.  
Tom lifted his head, his eyes wide, “Really?”  
Bill nodded and Tom could see his pupils dilating, taking over the soft brown of his irises. They stood from their chairs and bid goodbye to the Jost and the others before slipping away.  
Tom wanted to climb on Bill's lap during the ride home and kiss him. He would be happy with just that, but he didn't. He let Bill take the lead and Bill sat stiffly in his seat the whole time.  
Once they reached the hotel, Tom followed quickly, not like earlier today, when he knew he was only going to receive punishment. Now, he knew, the reward was coming and he couldn't get there fast enough.  
When they reached the hotel room, Bill's steps quickened and he was holding on his composure by strings.  
“Strip.” He ordered as soon as the door was shut.  
Tom quickly acquiesced, tugging his scarf and his large shirt off over his head. He moved on to his pants, his hands shaking and he tugged open the button and zipper. He pushed the jeans and his boxers away, leaving him completely naked.  
Bill advanced toward him, pushing his boots off his feet and pulling his tank top off. He tossed the belt and suspenders aside, leaving him in the torturous, leopard print pants, his aroused package clearly on display.  
“Lean over the bed.” Bill sent out the next command, his words clipped.  
Tom turned and bent over the bed, letting the soft comforter hold up his weight. Bill knelt behind him and Tom quivered as he pushed his fingers in again to remove the plug. Tom let out a gasp as he was freed of the tool.  
“There.” Bill murmured quietly, leaning in to kiss Tom's ass cheek.  
“Yesss.” Tom hissed quietly, arching his hips back towards Bill's face.  
Bill lifted his hands, cupping Tom's buttocks and spreading him apart. Tom groaned, trying not to rut wildly into the bed. He stilled when he felt Bill's warm breath wash over his cleft, then his moist lips brushing in close.  
“Bill...” Tom whispered, his voice quavering.  
Bill pressed soft kisses down Tom's cleft until he reached the puckered entrance, still open from the plug. His tongue flicked out, laving the sensitive flesh. Tom groaned, his hips jerking, before he reigned himself in.  
Bill's tongue pressed against him, before piercing him, torturously slow.  
“Bill, oh, Bill...” Tom gasped, his fingers grasping at the sheets.  
“Mmm.” Bill murmured, his fingers gripping Tom's buttocks harder, spreading him wider as his tongue penetrated him. Tom stilled, barely breathing as Bill curled his tongue inside, the tip rubbing back and forth til it found Tom's prostate. Tom cried out, writhing under Bill. The tender bud had been tortured all day by the plug and now the soft, wet touch of Bill's tongue seemed to be either too much or too little. He couldn't decide whether it pleasured him intensely or barely touched the surface.  
“Bill, God, please...” He moaned, grinding back against Bill.  
Bill began to thrust his tongue in and out, touching down on his prostate each time. Tom gasped and lurched against the bed as Bill slowly fucked him with his tongue. He didn't realize how intense the pleasure was until he felt the orgasm rising up inside him.  
“Bill!” He cried. “I'm gonna...” His sentence faded away into a groan and he jerked against the bed, hot cum spilling from his cock. All of the day's pent of desire rushed from him in several long spurts of cum.  
Bill pulled back from Tom's ass, watching as Tom writhed against the bed before collapsing.  
“Bill...” Tom whispered, “It was so...”  
Bill helped him all the way onto the bed and lied down next to him. “Better?” He asked.  
Tom nodded, “I... I want more.. you.”  
Bill leaned down and kissed him on the lips. “You want me to what?” He asked, drawing his lips down to Tom's chin and along his jawline.  
“I want your.... your cock..” Tom rasped, his head tilting back to allow Bill to kiss down his neck.  
“Mmm. You want my cock where?” Bill asked, lifting a hand to stroke the opposite side of Tom's neck. His fingers brushed over Tom's throbbing artery, enhancing the pulse.  
“Bill, please...” Tom groaned.  
“Tell me, Tom.” Bill urged, tracing his fingers down to Tom's collarbone, his lips finding the little mole above the opposite one.  
“I want your cock...” Tom pushed out. “I want it in me....”  
“Mmm-hmm.” Bill coaxed.  
“In me...” Tom repeated. “In my... my ass, please!” His cock was rising again, urged upwards by the titillating Q&A.  
“How?” Bill questioned, his fingers stroking down and finding Tom's nipple. Tom squirmed at the touch, the pleasurable sensation having gone straight to his cock.  
“I.. I don't care!” He cried out. “Please, I just want it...”  
Bill pulled back and stood at the side of the bed as he stripped away the leopard pants. When he was naked, Tom took in his aroused cock that stood up hard and throbbing against his pale stomach. He shuddered, imagining it sliding into him, hitting deep inside.  
Bill grabbed the lube and climbed back onto the bed. He urged Tom onto his side and pushed one leg up against chest, leaving his entrance open. Tom felt as if he could still feel the imprint of the plug inside him and he wanted it to be replaced by Bill's cock.  
Bill knelt with his knees on either side of Tom unbent leg with his cock poised directly towards Tom's ass. He opened the lube and squeezed some out on his fingers. He probed them gently between Tom's buttocks, pushing inside his hole. The flesh was still sensitive and Tom gave a strangled cry, his back arching. In this position, he could still make eye contact with Bill and he pleaded with him silently until Bill drew his hand back and began to apply the lube to his own cock. Tom watched, mesmerized as always as Bill lubricated himself with a few quick pumps of his hand. At last, he leaned over Tom and directed his cock to Tom's hole. He pressed his tip against him and pushed forward slowly. Tom's breath seeped out of his lungs with entrance and he arched his hips back towards Bill. This was everything he had wanted all day and his felt so good. He closed his eyes briefly as Bill finished the first thrust, burying himself completely in Tom's ass. He stretched inside slightly, but it was a wonderful ache.  
Bill seated himself there for a torturous moment before he began to move, his hips thrusting in a determined motion. Tom felt his lips part as he immediately began to hammer at his prostate. He grasped at the bed sheets on either side of him, twisting his back so that he could see Bill's face even as he came into him from behind.  
Bill grabbed onto Tom's buttock and thrust harder. Strands of hair fell from its slicked back style, falling over his forehead and dark eyes. Tom could already seen a sheen of sweat on his chest.  
Tom could barely move, but he managed to undulate his hips slightly back against Bill, moaning each time Bill hit his prostate. The first climax had been so fast, and this time, Tom could actually feel himself working up to the pleasure, instead of it simply coming over him.  
Bill leaned over him farther, his hands bracing on either side of Tom as he used the leverage to thrust harder. Their bodies met quickly with a slap, and Bill's cock pulled wonderfully, wet, erotic sounds from Tom's body.  
Tom found himself chanting quietly, a mixture of “yes” and Bill's name. The pleasure, however, remained a safe distance, taunting him as little thrills went through his body. But Tom almost didn't want it to end. He wished they could stay like this forever, with Bill inside him, complete.  
When Bill pulled out of him, Tom began to moan, but it was only for more lube and a change of position. He put Tom up on his knees and pulled him back down upon his cock. Able to move now, Tom thrust back as Bill came into him, driving Bill's cock harder against his prostate. Pleasure touched at the outer fringes of Tom's mind, sending ripples towards his center. His stomach tightened with each ensuing thrust and Tom cried out Bill's name, begging and pleading, hardly caring that he sounded undone and pathetic. He didn't care because Bill had made him that way, and that was all that mattered.  
Bill slid his hand down into Tom's hair and pulled him upright. His lips came down upon Tom's neck, his teeth scraping, his tongue licking, mouth sucking. He stayed latched onto Tom's neck and he pulled Tom down on his lap, spreading his legs across Bill's thighs. They rocked, slower and steadier now as they orgasm approached with Bill rubbing Tom's prostate just right, over and over again.  
“Oh, ahhh!” Tom cried, his stomach fluttering with the oncoming pleasure.  
Bill reached around him and found his hardened cock. He rubbed up and down the column slowly, as if an afterthought. His fingers toyed with foreskin, rubbing and back and forth, exposing the leaking slit before covering it once more.  
Bill, oh, Bill, please...” Tom begged quietly, his head resting back against Bill's shoulder. Bill didn't respond; he just kept rolling his hips up against Tom, slowly but surely working him towards orgasm again.  
At last, covered in a sheen of sweat, panting and gasping, but completely compliant, Tom came in Bill's lap, his body jerking and shaking all over again. His cum poured over Bill's lingering fingertips and it seemed to go on and on, pleasure shaking him to his very core. He felt Bill's hips undulate against him only a few more times before he went tense. Tom sighed a moan as he felt Bill spill into him, the abundance of it spilling out of him, staining his buttocks and Bill's thighs. Bill held tighter to Tom, pressing his face into Tom's shoulder and moaned quietly. Tom could feel his muscles spasming underneath the thin layer of his flesh until at last he relaxed under Tom.  
He slid out and the lay together on the mattress, exhausted and pleasured.  
Tom forgot about the butt plug. He forgot about the their argument and punishment afterwards. He even forgot about the performance. The rest of it didn't matter because he was here now, in Bill's embrace and he knew that one thing would never change – and that was that Bill loved him.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, people! They sustain me!


End file.
